


Bruised by Your Love

by DisasterLesbean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione Cult Discord Game, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Reconciliation, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterLesbean/pseuds/DisasterLesbean
Summary: “I’m still pissed at you.” Her hands drag up Bellatrix’s legs, skirts brushing against her palms.





	Bruised by Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhhHhh last prompt of the game, smut after the line

“How would you counter an unforgivable Granger?”

Hermione hasn’t been paying attention to the lesson since Bellatrix sat down on her desk. Her skirts are long enough to cover her legs but it’s the hint of them, the possibility, that has Hermione’s blood pumping. She knows what those legs look like. 

Bellatrix and her have always had a different relationship than with her other teachers. It’s more antagonistic for one. Thinly veiled insults are traded as most trade small talk. Threats passed from dark lips to brazen ears. She hadn’t realized just how different their relationship was until this year began and she saw just how dark her lips could get. 

Harry and Ron have always complained and thrown fits in her defense. They’re sure Bellatrix hates her and punishes her unfairly for it. She knows better by now. Or, she thought she did.

Until that night.

“I wouldn’t Professor Black.”

“You wouldn’t?” She says it mocking, a high pitched derisive sound. Harry shifts uncomfortably, ready to come to her defense.

“I’d dodge it, not counter.”

“Dodge?” 

“What better way than to avoid getting hit with it?” Bellatrix’s eyebrow twitches with irritation. She wants Hermione to react more, she knows this. She expected to throw Hermione off, surprise her into being obvious. Hermione wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, she’d rather let an unforgivable destroy her. After everything, after Bellatrix’s actions over the past few weeks, Hermione won’t engage with her. She would pretend she didn’t exist if she weren’t her teacher. 

Before, she’d fight Bellatrix right back. Every snide comment would get a rebuttal from Hermione. It’s telling that even the other students are surprised by her placid response. Good, if they know then Bellatrix definitely knows. If Bellatrix could ignore her, she would ignore her right back.

The lesson passes by the same, Hermione ignoring Bellatrix as best she could. She can be unresponsive and monotone when responding to her but she can’t control her gaze. Bellatrix is laying it on thick. 

She remains perched on her desk with grace that still surprises Hermione. The cords of her neck stand out, wiry muscle and soft skin luring Hermione in. Hermione is reminded of all the times she’s explored that throat. The way her hand would grasp dark hair and- “Hermione, are you okay?” Harry breaks her out of her reverie but not in time. She sees Bellatrix’s satisfied grin and wants to clobber her for it. She scowls at her teacher and Bellatrix’s grin turns into a smug smile. 

“I’m fine Harry.” She really is terrible at ignoring Bellatrix. She’s not great at the duplicitous lying, she’d leave that for Bellatrix. She is more careful after that, she stares past Bellatrix and refuses to look at her. She’s grateful when class ends. She wants to be far away from this mess they’ve found themselves in. Rather, Bellatrix put them in. 

“Granger, wait.” Bellatrix has no issue pretending she doesn’t exist for weeks but all the sudden she’s interested again. Hermione is seething by the time the stragglers leave. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left to say.” It’s clipped, harsher than Hermione has ever talked to Bellatrix even during their worst moments. Hermione’s never been truly angry at Bellatrix though, not like this. The righteous fury is scorching through her veins and begging her to let Bellatrix burn in it. 

“Pet-” 

“Don’t.”

“Hermione, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“How was it supposed to be? Have fun with your husband Professor Black.” Bellatrix hadn’t sealed the room so Hermione is able to leave. She hears Bellatrix call for her and ignores it. She’s the one who put them here. She’s the one who ruined what they had. She’s the one with the husband. 

She hadn’t known Bellatrix is married. No one did, not really. He was locked away in Azkaban, forgotten to the world. He got out and suddenly Bellatrix and her were over. She’d told Hermione she needed to be there for her husband. That Hermione was just someone to kill time with. That Rodolphus is the one that she loves.

She can’t believe she got dumped for a fucking reindeer.

Bellatrix broke things off with her as brutally as she could and then proceeded to ignore her for weeks. Hermione isn’t about to let Bellatrix explain it all away. 

She goes to eat with her friends. She was going to go to the library or her room but Bellatrix would expect that, maybe she’d ambush her. Bellatrix is determined when she wants something. 

“Hey, you guys heard about Professor Black?” Ginny’s head is buried in a newspaper.

“What?” Hermione asks.

“She’s divorcing her husband. It’s a huge deal with pure-blood families. She probably married him for political reasons, divorcing him is a risky move. A lot of pure-blood families don’t look well on it.”

“What about the Blacks?”

“Especially the Blacks.”

That’s what Bellatrix wanted to talk to her about, it has to be. She waits a few minutes, each longer than the previous, before she excuses herself. As soon as she’s out of view she sprints towards Bellatrix’s classroom. She slams the door open and Bellatrix has the audacity to look unsurprised. 

“Back so soon? So dramatic too. Careful, you’ll take Potter’s title for being the biggest drama queen of the year. Merlin, if I have to hear him complain about his dead parents one more time I’ll make everyone write ten scrolls on getting over it.”

“Harry’s not a drama queen.” She’s breathless from running and it undermines any ground she has to stand on. 

“No? Not even when he simpers about Cho? I have to hear it enough and I’m a professor. Perhaps I’ll invest in earplugs. Muggles love those.”

“Like your nephew is any better.”

“He broods, very different.” 

“You’re divorced.” It’s an abrupt change but if they keep talking about Harry she really might lose her mind.

“Divorcing.”

“I thought you wanted to make it work.”

“It didn’t.”

“Why?”

“What does it matter?” Bellatrix’s eyes are dark as she watches Hermione officially enter the room and close the door behind her.

“It matters.” The hard edge makes Bellatrix roll her eyes.

“It was never a marriage about love.”

“You said you loved him.”

“You really won’t let this go.” Bellatrix would be annoyed in any other situation but the fondness in her voice belies her true feelings.

“You told me we were over because of a husband I’d never heard of that you apparently don’t even love.” 

“Pure-bloods are expected to marry into other pure-blood families. It was a good marriage.” There’s more. Hermione knows there’s more. 

“So you divorce your good marriage. That doesn’t make sense. What aren’t you saying?” 

“Hermione…” Her expression is pleading, more vulnerable then she usually lets herself be. “Stop making this so damned hard.” Hermione’s feet drag her closer of their own accord. Her body so well attuned to Bellatrix at this point. The vulnerable expression, the space between her legs Hermione knows that she slots perfectly into, the heat in her gaze. It draws Hermione in and she’s helpless against its pull.

“I’m still pissed at you.” Her hands drag up Bellatrix’s legs, skirts brushing against her palms. 

“I know.” Bellatrix’s face is close to hers now, her lips grazing over her cheeks but not kissing her. “I’ll make it up to you.” Hermione stills wants answers, needs them. She pulls back to tell her as much when Bellatrix pulls her into their first kiss in weeks. 

_____________________________________________

 

Kissing Bellatrix is the same as it always is. Life changing. The power that radiates off of Bellatrix at any given time is like an aphrodisiac. With every slide of their lips and graze of Bellatrix’s tongue she becomes further intoxicated. Heat is building quickly and Hermione is trying to keep up with recent events. She woke up this morning committed to ignoring Bellatrix and now she has her beneath her. “The door.” 

“Warded the moment you walked in.”

“Ambitious of you.” 

“What can I say? I’m a slytherin.” 

Hermione scoffs but doesn’t complain when Bellatrix’s leg pulls her closer, heel pressing into her lower back. Hermione pulls her into another kiss, teeth digging into the professor’s dark lips. The parts of her that are pleased at having Bellatrix breathing into her mouth are at war with the parts still angry for the past weeks. She leaves Bellatrix’s lips bruised and red by the time she’s made up her mind. This moment is better than it has been for weeks. She could get over her anger because she had Bellatrix back. 

Bellatrix leans her head back and she takes the opportunity to nip at the wiry muscle. She earns a pleased hum from her professor. She bites harder and this time Bellatrix moans. Hermione smiles against her throat before moving to Bellatrix’s chest. “Don’t be so pleased with yourself.” She admonishes Hermione but doesn’t stop her. Hermione sucks a path along her neckline but knows from experience she can’t get any further if she doesn’t untie the corset.

Hermione moves to pull her off the desk and Bellatrix allows it. She turns Bellatrix around and is quick to work on the ties. She lays absent minded kisses to Bellatrix’s shoulders. “You would pick the corset that takes the most work to get off.”

“It’s also the one that drives you crazy.” She’s right. Hermione had difficulty more than once keeping to her vow to not stare at her professor. Bellatrix had also just openly admitted to plotting to this. Hermione shouldn’t be surprised. Bellatrix has never been a humble person. “Doing okay back there? Need a hand? I know I do.” Hermione bites hard on Bellatrix’s neck in reprimand. Bellatrix hisses and her hips shift against Hermione’s. An invitation, a plea. Hermione speeds up her movements. 

The last tie comes undone and Hermione removes the corset. She sets it aside, carefully enough to make Bellatrix snort. It is her favorite, she isn’t about to ruin it. She feels Bellatrix’s stomach twitch as her hand dances up and drags back down. Bellatrix shifts to turn around but Hermione keeps her position. One hand grasping her hip and the other circling Bellatrix’s nipple. Bellatrix pauses for a moment before she drops her head forward. Hermione kisses her shoulders, her thumb circling a familiar path. 

She drags her teeth down Bellatrix’s spine before licking her way back up. The muscles spasm beneath her touch. Bellatrix has always had a thin frame, more bones and muscle than anything. She wonders if that why she purples so easily. Just the hint of teeth and blood ruptures beneath the surface. Bellatrix tastes of salt now, the perspiration gathering between her shoulder blades. Bellatrix, growing tired of waiting, grabs Hermione’s hand and moves it from her hip. Hermione catches on and bunches Bellatrix’s excessive skirts with her hand. 

She rolls Bellatrix’s nipple between her fingers causing Bellatrix to moan and turn her head towards Hermione. Hermione meets her halfway into a sloppy kiss. She can’t hold the skirts and continue without removing her hand from Bellatrix’s chest. Sensing her issue, Bellatrix lifts the skirts herself.

She continues down expecting fabric only to find none. “Merlin.” 

“At least say my name instead of some crusty old man’s.” 

She shouldn’t be surprised that Bellatrix decided against underwear when she’d already planned everything else out but it still makes her throb. Her fingers drag through the coarse hairs and into wet heat. Bellatrix rocks against her, digging her wrist into the desk. It’s not the most comfortable position with her wrist bent and stuck between Bellatrix and the desk but it’s worth it when Bellatrix breathes out her name. 

Her fingers slide through the wetness before she brings her fingers to the hard nub. Bellatrix curses and braces a hand against the desk. She circles a pattern she knows will make Bellatrix come. A pattern she’s spent many nights learning. Bellatrix’s hips are moving constantly now but Hermione doesn’t stop her. She could have lost this, lost Bellatrix. She intends to make up for lost time. 

Her fingers grip and roll Bellatrix’s nipple harder, firmer. Her fingers keep a light contact around her clit. As much as her professor likes rougher bites and contact, she needs a lighter touch between her folds. She knows Bellatrix’s body better than anyone she’d reckon. She knows how to touch her and how long, how hard. She knows her better than anyone, better than any would be husband. She needs Bellatrix to know that. To feel it. 

She sucks onto a soft spot behind Bellatrix’s ear and her fingers press just a bit firmer when she feels Bellatrix’s body shudder into an orgasm. Her body slackens against Hermione’s and she lets out a shaky exhale. Hermione steadies her as she comes down and wraps an arm around her waist, settling against her shoulder. Bellatrix shifts to turn around and Hermione steps back to let her. 

Bellatrix turns and pulls Hermione back into her, arms wrapped around her. Her eyes are boring into her with a million words. They’re telling her a story. They’re telling her what she needs to hear, what Bellatrix can’t say. 

She made a mistake. She shouldn’t have left, she shouldn’t have run. She came back for Hermione. 

It melts away the last reaches of Hermione’s anger. 

That’s why she isn’t expecting the devious expression. Before she knows what’s happening her knees are buckling. Bellatrix’s tongue runs around the tips of her fingers, mouth sealing her in. “Bellatrix.”

“That’s more like it.” She pushes Hermione and she stumbles back. Bellatrix saunters towards her chair and falls into it.

Bellatrix is sitting half naked, her hair even messier than usual, her lips red and bruises litter her body. She looks ruffled and utterly fucked. Despite this, she looks like a queen on her throne. When Bellatrix beckons her, Hermione shuffles forward an eager supplicant. 

She falls to her knees and presses Bellatrix’s knees apart, fitting between her legs. 

“Are you still upset?”


End file.
